Shut Up And Dance!
by ValerianSunrise
Summary: Gakuen Setting; Tradefic for Someone.


_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Hetalia, for if I did, I would have the pairings my way, and I would not include GermanCest (Do not hate me! I just don't like it!) So, be glad I do not own it . . . and plus . . . Italy and Germany would have kissed by now, or Prussia and Italy . . . or . . . . yeah, the list can go on, I'll shut up now (:_

_**A/N: **__Yeah, it's me again, and yes, yes, before any of you ask me about the long awaited KuroFai Chapter, It shall be done . . . soon, why? Cause, I finally have inspiration, since I have a Kurogane to roleplay with. (Iuvyousomuchalicechan!) Anyway, this is trade fiction, Hetalia trade, with the wonderful and lovely, 'Seychelles' / 'Senpai!' She is so sweet, and wrote me a FrIta fanfiction in return~! If you want a link to it, you can ask me in PM :3 Enjoy this, for it is . . . _

_AsaSey! (England x Seychelles) I hope you enjoy, and if I fail at writing Seychelles, forgive me! (You too Senpai . / / . ) _

_Enjoy it~! _

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Frustration was clearly evident on the Briton's face as he lightly tapped the pen against the table he was currently seated at. The Student Council meeting had ended ages ago, and he was now awaiting his final appointment for the day. She was supposed to have shown up twelve minutes ago, but alas, she was nowhere to be found. He was frustrated because, well, of course, no one went against the Class President, nor England for that matter. If you did, it would result in something frightening, something treacherous, something . . . relating to the occult, for, if he tried to send anything else after the country who had turned against his will, then, it would either fail miserably in the end, and he'd be alone again, or, he'd be beaten again, and then left alone. Either way, it was a lose and lose situation.

Growling in annoyance at the flittering memory of that stupid airhead named America, Arthur opened his green irises and stared at the door. He had been here earlier, and had tried to convince him that they should go with a Cowboy Theme for the upcoming school dance. He had declined, calling it childish and uncreative. America had only resulted in argument, and they'd been told to cut the case by Iceland, as well as several other Ally members, including that damned wine face, France. Speaking of France . . . that brought his attention back to the matter at hand, the missing female, who loved to just irritate him with any bits of French she could get out.

He hated it, no he hated her. Okay, perhaps that was a little forward, no, he hated _France. _That stupid idiot who got in his way, tried to molest him, if not rape him countless times, and above all that he had claimed territory on the pretty young female before him! (Yes, he would admit that Seychelles was pretty, it would be quite the lie if he said otherwise.) He was about to pick up the phone that he had reserved especially for these kinds of occasions when he heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Gentlemanlike thoughts forgotten, Arthur stood up and walked over to the door.

Peeking out the window, there she was, her long pigtails held by those red ribbons waving in the wind. Hmph, yeah, she **was** a pretty picture, but she was rather . . . bratty, annoying, bossy . . . _tsundere, _as Japan had clarified for him. Then again, he was too, but of course, he thought too highly of himself to think of that, nor was it in his mind as he opened the door, ignoring the creaking sound it created as he stood outside, crossing his arms, and narrowing his rather thick eyebrows at the girl as she smugly smiled up at him with a prideful kind of expression, apparently she thought this was rather amusing.

"Something the matter, _Sourcils?" _She questioned, as the Briton gave her a look which was warning, and would usually give anyone the hint to not say anything more, but she obviously took it as encouragement. "Tu ferais mieux de faire attention, les sourcils ou les sourcils pourrait bien pousser un peu plus si vous les étroites de manière ~" She replied, stepping away from him and into the room, hopping up onto the table as she looked over at the fuming Englishman.

"Did I not say enough with the blasted French!" Arthur nearly yelled, giving the other a look that clearly said he was not in the mood for her silly, and annoying games today. Seychelles only grinned and continued onwards with her teasing, in French.

"Oh, ai-je trouver un nerf?" She asked, feigning innocence, flipping one of her pretty dark brown tails behind her back.

Glaring some at the female before him, England walked over to the desk he was sitting at before and shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Brown eyes sparkled with pure delight on getting the blonde haired imbécile to shut up. She closed her eyes, content with the silence for a few minutes before she looked over to the somewhat stressed out, emerald eyed boy.

"What's the problem, Sourcils?"

"Nothing." Retorted an annoyed blonde.

"Oh? So I can leave then, why thank yo-"

Reaching up, the Britain grabbed the female's arm and gave her a dark glare, his usual emerald green had darkened to a forest-shade, and it almost, just almost scared the female for a moment, before she sat down, and crossed her arms. "What the hell do you need me here for if you aren't even going to speak to me, or have me do anything?" She asked, blowing dark strands away from her tanned face.

"You're going to be helping me today." Replied Kirkland without looking up from his paperwork, only causing Seychelles to raise an eyebrow and look at England with a questioning stare.

"Eh?" She asked, as if it was the most outrageous thing in the world, then again, it was kind of . . . after all she hated this male beyond imagination. Okay, perhaps that was stretching it, she didn't _hate _him, more then he was a creep, smart-aleck, idiot, rude, and so many other different rude names she could call him . . . the list could go on, and on, and on . . .

"Are you even listening to me?" Asked the European to the African girl, giving a frustrated stare.

"Hm? Were you saying something, Sourcils?" She asked, deciding to poke more fun at the other, just to see if she could get underneath his skin anymore, and not in that sexual kind of way, like the French male who had helped raise her might've thought . . .

"I need you to design something." He replied and looked to the side, huffing and blowing bangs away from his face as he leaned back on his chair, she blinked several times, as if she was mistaking his words. "You need me to what?" She asked, and leaned up, and away from the cold surface of the desk underneath her.

"I need you to design something, must I repeat myself?"

"Oui."

"I said enough with the bloody French!" Growled Arthur in response to her grin. He stood up, and walked over to where she was, he towered over her some, and he gave her a look, neither annoyed, or pleased, rather, it was simply blank. It was an expression that Seychelles was definitely not used to seeing on the other. She took a step backward, but was stopped by a hand once again, but instead of the usual, he had it on her waist.

"I need you to design something for the dance, it's an island theme, and since you're an island country, you're the best candidate, I refuse to let Cuba have his rule over it, nor will I allow any of the other countries do it, they'd screw up the entire thing, but surely, being an African Nation, having lived under that bastard's eyes, and guidance, you know a few things about art, and would be willing to help?"

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Asked, an exasperated look from the emerald eyed boy, he didn't quite seem to understand what she meant, it hadn't really occurred to him that he hadn't explained the fact of his hand upon her waist.

_"I said, __**what **_you doing!" Questioned the now flustered female trying to push the other away from her.

Realization struck the Briton, before a slightly playful (or was it sinister?) look appeared on his face as he kept his ground. "That was another part of the deal, this **is **_a dance._" He replied, and smirked some. "The boys ask the girls to the dance, and there, they dance, does that makes sense?" He replied, and she gave him a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, it does, Sourcils, but why the heck are you holding me like this! Its not like me and you are going to da-" She was stopped short as a finger was placed on the other's lips, causing her to flush unintentionally, and for her to silence in a simple manner.

Seeming to be content with the silence, Arthur spoke up again. "Here's the deal, if I can show you I can dance much better then that French idiot, you'll go to the dane with me." He replied, as she gave him an incredulous expression.

"Have you lost it?"

Laughing, but not in his usual way, he took her hand in his and moved forward, making a four-four time out of the dance, leaving a confused, and not understanding African girl in his arms, having to follow along as best as she could, she didn't want him to win, yet, he was fairly talented at this, from what she could tell.

"Not really, I just don't want anyone else to go with you." Responded the United Kingdom, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why is that?" She asked, flushing, trying to not let it show, but failing miserably.

"Hard to say."

"If you don't tell me, I'll never even think about it, going with you." She respond, glaring at him.

Smirking in return, Arthur looked at her, a slightly knowing look in his eyes. "You were considering it?"

"Shut up."

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

"Seychieeeee~!" Called an enthusiastic blonde as he ran over, wearing a dark navy tux, his hair still holding the adorable curl despite the gel that Germany had tried to put on it to get it down. It was a formal dance, and he was planning on keeping the Italian as well as his brother in check. Yet, to his avail both had managed out of his grasp, as he shook his head, putting his hand to his face, Japan simply smiled some before he went to speak to his other siblings, avoiding South Korea as much as possible.

Seychelles looked up, flustered, but her hair was let down, except for one tail, which was held by a white ribbon, she wore a sky blue, and white dress, wave patterns on it, of course, Taiwan had helped her pick it out, but she couldn't believe she was even here!

"You came!" Italy replied, hugging the other, or rather glomping onto her in an excited little manner.

"Yeah, I did." She replied sweatdropping and sighing as she looked to the side.

Grinning from ear to ear, the Italian closed his eyes. "That's amazing, ve! Who's your date~! Seychie has a date, right?" He asked, as the female flushed more then she had before.

"Well . . . " She looked to the side as England soon appeared behind her, giving the Italian a look that was simply put as :

_Stay away._

Taking the hint, the amber eyed male shook and waved farewell to the Island country. "H-Have fun with Igirisu-s-san Seychie!" He shouted before running to the safety of Germany's side.

"You look unhappy." Spoke England, a smirk, but playful nonetheless.

"Of course I am, I'm here with **you **aren't I?"

"You don't have to make it so obvious."

"Shut up and dance with me." The female replied, giving a somewhat annoyed glare before dragging the Briton onto the dance floor.

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_**A/N: Fin! Finish! Owari! Yeah, I think I failed on this epically, but oh well, I hope that my senpai enjoyed it none the less (: It was kind of fun to write something new, but I was also having a little brain-deadiness T T; Anyway, R/R if you so desire, but please, no flames, this was my first Hetalia Fanfiction, after all.**_


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